


In the dark cold night

by Utopian_Namjoon



Category: Kpop - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 08:35:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utopian_Namjoon/pseuds/Utopian_Namjoon
Summary: Yoongi wanders around the streets on his search. He is desperate and wants to find he yearns for.





	In the dark cold night

I struggle to pull my feet off the ground, every step being pulled down with a force I can’t fight against. The bottom of my shoe falls against the concrete.

I take the two, heavy, steps and press my finger against the buzzer and wait, a picture against my sweating palm.

Door creaks and hinges are put to work, I face a man taller than me, looking down at me. He rolls his eyes and sighs when he sees who is standing behind his wooden door, a man broken beyond repair.

I ask him a question and offer him picture that he glances at, suggesting me to get back home. A disappointed smile tugs down on his lips when I turn my back and head away. He wishes I’d stop doing this, interrupting his evening with his family.

I never got to have a family.

A woman with her child walk pass me on the paved road, the small boy skips around and lets his toycar roll on every surface.

”Ma! It’s the man again!” He pulls on her skirt. ”Is he still trying to find her?” His head tilts.

Her hand grabs his while her decorated finger moves to press on her rosy lips, she shushes and says to not point at others, it’s not polite.

Her eyebrows furrow and the sigh follows, I walk up to her. She looks at me and accepts a picture I offer, looking at me longer than usual. She shakes her head no, she haven’t seen her.

I continue my way to a local coffee shop. I remember the way it smells and the noise inside, coffee beans being grinded into fine dust as I sip on the bitter juice that I always yearn more for. Especially when it meant having her sitting right across me, whipped cream on the top of her lip. I used to swipe it off with my thumb and she’d just smile back at me, her eyes crinkling and filling with love.

The casier tilts her head at me and points to the window, her picture already on paper slapped against the glass. I wonder who else is looking for her. I leave and hear her sigh. She wishes that I’d find peace.

Peace from the search that I can’t stop.

I take a swig of the bottle in a paper bag, it doesn’t make me feel better, the emptiness in my chest is still there and not even a fraction of it is replaceable. It burns down my throat into my stomach, making me feel warm in the winter weather beating my skin to frostbite. The sea is cold and the wind blows, my skin feeling like burning, freezing and dying.

The ground sways under my feet and my balance takes a hit.

”She’s not here, she’s gone.”

A hand grabs my coat and tells me to go back home. He doesn’t understand I’ve got to find her, I can’t live without her. He nods understandingly and the corners of his mouth are wary of tilting upwards, but he doesn’t let go of the idea of taking me home. He takes my posters and keeps nodding, he seems nice but can’t relate to my pain.

”Get a good night’s sleep, see ya tomorrow.”

I crash on our couch and look at the bottom of the bottle, empty like me. How can I go home when home is where she is? I need to reach home again. I’m afraid and scared with no hope, I don’t know where she has gone. I throw the bottle in the corner, the room is running in circles around me and I am void of emotion. The apartment doesn’t glow like it used to, and I can’t remember the last time I heard your laugh echo from the other room into my ears.

My ears that used hear your confessions of love and sweet sayings. My ears that yearn to hear from you once more.


End file.
